It was sod's law. I'd just got my daughter, Tasha, off to sleep, now, my dog, Dixie, was barking like mad to be fed. I opened the kitchen cupboard, only to see there wasn't a single tin of dog food left. I felt like crying. Worst of all, I knew Dixie wouldn't shut up until she'd filled her stomach.
'We must have something,' I said, as I peered inside the fridge.
Then I spotted the bottles of breast milk I'd expressed earlier that day.
Admittedly, Tasha, 17 months, was quite old to still be breastfeeding, but I loved the bond it gave us, so I'd decided to carry on. It was free, too, which was good, because since I'd split up with her dad, Ted Collins, 35, when she was 3 months old, money was tight.
I'd always produced more milk than Tasha could drink, so I'd got into the habit of keeping some in the fridge for when I left her with a babysitter.
I stared at the milk and then back at Dixie. I couldn't, could I? More + photo...